“To the station house?”
“Yes; come on.”
“Never.”
Smith struggled feebly to get away, but the boy held him with ease. Overcome, the man finally sat down on the curbstone and refused to budge.
“Shay, let us compromise,” he mumbled. “It was all a mistake.”
“It was no mistake.”
“If I give you ten dollars, will you call it off?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t git a cent, see?”
And with great deliberation the pickpocket closed one bleared eye and glared at Jerry.